


dance around the living room, lose me in the sight of you

by altissimozucca



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Comfort, Inspired by the song 'Lover of Mine' by 5SOS, M/M, This was supposed to be light and happy but took an angsty turn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altissimozucca/pseuds/altissimozucca
Summary: Max wasn’t even sure how or why he got the sudden urge to get closer to Charles, to spend days with him, to take him out on a wide array of dinners and dates, to do all that domestic and sweet stuff he’d only seen in romantic movies beforehand and that usually had him cringing. But Charles was different. Charles was nice, and sweet, and deserved so much more than Max – at least in Max’s eyes.Perhaps that was why they ended up together. Charles didn’t look at Max and see the mistakes and failures, but something more, a different part of him that painted Max as human; Max was well-aware that Charles helped show the world the true Max, and not the ambition-driven machine he’d been painted out to be.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	dance around the living room, lose me in the sight of you

**Author's Note:**

> \- this was supposed to be some light boyfriends slow-dancing in the kitchen but I'm incapable of producing fluff at the moment  
\- tried my best to make it exactly 1000 words, failed  
\- inspired by the song "Lover of Mine" by 5 Seconds of Summer

** There were many** things Max had done in his life that brought him waves upon waves of regret; from embarrassing, rookie mistakes on track even after he’d gained experience, to breaking hearts of a number of people who didn’t deserve it. The bitter memories served as nothing but a reminder of his failures haunting him day after day.

Throughout the course of his career, Max became aware he was seen as an _asshole,_ as someone who didn’t care about anything or anyone but himself, a selfish prick whose only goal in life was to reach that first step on the podium no matter who he threw to the ground in the process. In the eyes of others, Max was a delinquent, an anathema, a mere child trying to play with the big boys in their own field.

He knew it wasn’t without a reason. Vile and bitter regret churned in the pits of his stomach as he looked back in time, back at himself from just a few years ago; even looking back one year made him cringe at his own damn self, at the way he handled the bad times life had thrown at him with unmatched immaturity.

_“You’ve changed so much,”_ people often said to him in the recent few months, _“You’ve matured a lot, it’s as though you’re a completely different person now. Must be the first-driver role, it was a good call from the team.”_ Max was still himself, but he didn’t voice that out loud; it wasn’t due to his place in the team either, but he kept that to himself, too.

Thinking about himself brought him zero satisfaction, shame the only thing he could feel as he remembered how he was in the past. When he looked back on it, Max could remember being surrounded by people yet feeling so alone all the time, just another person in the sea of others, staring down the barrel of the shotgun that was the harsh scrutiny of the media.

Then he got closer to Charles. Charles, who smiled at him from the Sauber motorhome whenever he saw him in the paddock, eyes bright and dimples showing, and Max had to swallow the gulp in his throat the first time he’d noticed; Charles, who changed so much since Max had last seen him, since he had last taken a good look at the Monègasque back when he still donned the long hair and only spoke in broken English.

Max wasn’t even sure _how_ or _why_ he got the sudden urge to get closer to Charles, to spend days with him, to take him out on a wide array of dinners and dates, to do all that domestic and sweet stuff he’d only seen in romantic movies beforehand and that usually had him cringing. But Charles was different. Charles was nice, and sweet, and deserved so much more than Max – at least in Max’s eyes.

Perhaps that was why they ended up together. Charles didn’t look at Max and see the mistakes and failures, but something more, a different part of him that painted Max as human; Max was well-aware that Charles helped show the world the true Max and not the ambition-driven machine he’d been painted out to be.

Even if it was only in the discreet photos of tangled legs and silhouettes or flower deliveries posted on Instagram stories, name tags and any visible features hidden from the rest of the world.

Max was forever grateful for Charles. He had seen past the bad things, past Max’s wrongdoings and past the villain he’d been made out to be, and Charles kissed him hard on the Monègasque pier under a shower of warm, summer rain after Max poured out his heart, so long ago yet still clear in their heads as though it happened yesterday.

As a pair of arms wrapped around Max’s face, he’d been brought back to reality, _to Charles_, whose lips pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck as he mumbled, “You’re thinking too much again,” into the smooth skin. A shudder passed down Max’s spine as he relaxed, turning to putty in Charles’ arms.

He didn’t reply, just covered Charles’ arms with his and held him there, held him close to make sure he’s not just a fragment of Max’s imagination, that he was still there for some, to Max unknown, reason. If there was one thing Max was sure about, it was that he’d never fully understand Charles Leclerc.

_“Max,”_ Charles spoke sternly, turning his boyfriend around so that they were standing face-to-face, mere inches away from each other. Expression softening, Charles raised his hand to cup the side of Max’s face, “Don’t torture yourself.”

Max said nothing, just let his arms fall down to Charles’ waist, thumbs stroking the skin through the fabric of his t-shirt. “I love you,” he finally spoke, voice quiet but Charles could hear him without an issue; slowly, he wrapped his arms around the back of Max’s head and pressed their lips together softly.

“I love you,” Charles responded after they separated, noses brushing and breaths mingling from the proximity. The feeling of Max’s arms wrapping around his waist caused Charles to hum contently, and he pressed them together in an embrace, breathing in Max’s intoxicating scent.

_“I think you’re the only thing I did right,”_ Charles barely caught the words as they left Max’s mouth, the raw emotion in them tugging at his heartstrings. Stepping away from his boyfriend, Charles took one of Max’s hands in his while he let the other one stroke Max’s cheek, smoothing the lines of his frown.

“Everybody has demons, Max,” he whispered gently, lips tugging in a small and reassuring smile as his eyes met his boyfriend’s, “Don’t let them torture you. Don’t punish yourself for such miniscule things. It’s not worth it.”

Max said nothing as he pulled Charles back into his arms, holding him tight in fear of Charles suddenly disappearing and leaving him alone again; there were many things from his past that brought Max waves upon waves of regret, but loving Charles was not one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes  
You're the only thing that I think I got right  
\- "Lover of Mine", 5 Seconds of Summer
> 
> [tumblr at altisssimozucca](https://altisssimozucca.tumblr.com/)


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